


Where Halla Wonder

by MotherTerp



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Drama, Father-Daughter Relationship, Inquisitor with adult kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherTerp/pseuds/MotherTerp
Summary: It's a long way from the Free Marches to the Frostback mountains, not a trip to take alone. Father and daughter Islanil and Thenris Lavellen were both sent, and manage to survive the events of the conclave, but neither is the same.Fallow this take on the Inquisition with an added bonus of family tension, forbidden love, and secrets revealed.First fic here, let's do this!
Relationships: Dalish (Dragon Age: Inquisition)/Solas, Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan, Lavellan & Solas, Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	1. Lost and Desperate

_“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now…”_

_“...What do you mean everyone is dead?”_

* * *

Islanil Lavellen was a strong man, a dalish elf born in Ferelden he had seen his fair share of destruction and desperation. He had killed men and beast to protect his clan, fought bandits, towns guards, even a few darkspawn. As the clan moved up through Orlais and Nevarra to the Free Marches he had seen sights that made his blood run cold. The aftermath of plague in a village, men died of starvation, or brutality, their bodies left or forgotten in the woods. Once they had found a whole family frozen together in their home. None of these things stirred so great a fear as did the sight Temple of Sacred Ashes. Never had he felt terror grip him so much as the sight of the skeletons frozen in horror and agony.

He stood at the lip of the creator, unable to move forward. _No, no, no…_

“We need to get to the rift,” The Seeker said, hoping down.

She was followed by Solas, leaving him and Verric standing above.

“You alright friend?” The dwarf asked.

“I… I did not come alone,” He managed, _Great Creations, please, Sylais, great Mythal protector... please, please no..._ “There were two others… one was my... my daughter… Thenris.”

The others fell silent for a moment, their heads turning away, each comprehending this best they could. 

“That is a terrible blow. I am sorry. You are sure she was in the temple?” Solas asked.

Islanil shook his head and jumped down. “I don’t- I- She-. We should keep going,” he said, his breathing still unsteady, “let’s do this.”

“We are almost there,” Cassandra said by way of agreement, “There will be time for searching once this is done. If there is any sign of her, we will find it.” 

Islanil nodded, clearly still reeling inside. But his grip tightened on his bow, and he moved forward towards the remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

* * *

The Mages camped in the Witchwood were, by Thenris estimation, little more than power-crazed bandits, preying on the innocent and claiming it was 'justice' for years of mistreatment. But after the conclave, she had had little choice between joining these apostates or the mercy of the Templars, bandits, or anyone else desperate enough to attack another. One Dalish mage against all of Ferelden, with a thousand miles and an ocean between her and home.

Fortunately for her, her skills as a healer and survivalist proved to be the most useful to the mages here, as life in The Circle had not prepared them for surviving in the elements. This meant spending most of her time in camp, preparing meals and elfroot poultices, rather than engaged in battle with Templars, demons, and innocent people. But not all the time.

Word was there was a new force in the area, the Inquisition, that was clearing out both Mages and Templars. Doing a pretty good job of it too, if their own body and injury count was anything to go one. The more of these mages they killed, the more Thenris was sent out on patrol. 

"They are led by a Seeker, some Templar bitch, and a fellow they call the Herald of Andraste," Jerrin, one of the mages look outs said and glanced her way, "Hey, you, ah, the dalish- lady. You know anything about this guy?"

She looked up from the stew pot and turned so her face was fully visible to him. "Do I look like I know about a Herald of Andraste?" She asked deadpan, and immediately went back to her work. _Shemlins_ , she thought.

"No, see, it’s this elf that survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes. They say Andraste saved him from the fade, he’s the one that stopped the breach from growing-"

"And I am supposed to know who that is because they are an elf?" Thenris asked not bothering to look up.

"No, I mean yes, because he is a Dalish, like you and he was at the Conclave," Jerrin stumbled on.

"And?" Thenris asked.

"And well, I figured..." The young man trailed off.

"Jerrin, stop. You're embarrassing yourself, it is physically painful for me to listen to you go on." Ginny, one of the more senior mages said.

"What's his name?" Thenris asked, thinking: _might as well be sure._ "Because there were two others from our clan that came my father Islanil Renlen Lavellen and a fellow named Tamyss Myrlen Lavellen. Those are the only two other Dalish that I know were there."

"I didn't get his name, they just called him the Herald."

"Then I can't help you." She said flatly.

“Sorry,” Jerrin said, at least having the decency to look embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” she said, and got up, “Soups done.”

She headed out of the cave, but caught Ginny saying: “Really, Jerrin?”

She stopped at the cave's mouth leaning on the stone, letting the cold night air wash over her. _Great Creations preserve me,_ She thought and felt hot tears roll down her face. _Dread wolf take them. No, cursing does no good. Time to mourn later. Need to stay sharp, stay alive. Breath girl, breath._

The tide was turning against these mages, between the Templars and this Inquisition their days were numbered. _That means moving on,_ She thought, _but where to go? Where is safe?_ She let out a long breath. The closest settlement was Redcliff, and the mages there might take her, key word being _might_. Further, it was a trip over unfamiliar terrain with the countryside crawling with demons and worse. She sighed and cast her eyes to the heavens above. Tomorrow she was going on patrol with some of the others, and it was as good a chance as any to make a break for it. _Great Ghilan’nain, guide my path. Mythal, great mother and protector, protect your daughter, and if there is any mercy left in this blighted broken world, let me make it home._

Above her the heavens twinkled, she could see the constellation Silentir rising, with Fenrir not far above.

“So that’s a maybe then,” She muttered, before turning to head back in.

* * *

Thenris and Jerrin headed out on patrol later than she would have liked, a full three hours after dawn, which was annoying, more annoying was that no one else seemed to understand the importance of being up at first light, and Thenris was confused about how they got anything done in a day, wasting daylight like they were the Empress of Orlias. 

_Shemlins._

Their patrol took them to the edge of the woods, near The Kings Road, technically they were supposed to go further, give a full scan of the road between the crossroads and the woods. But seeing as that was a killing yard, Thenris had opted to not go there. Instead, she would swing them closer to the Redcliff road, and trusted in Jerrin's poor sense of direction not to catch on.

"So, ah, Thenris. You're from the Free Marches right?" Jerrin asked after they had headed out.

"I am from Clan Lavellen," Thenris replied, scanning the area for trouble and an opportunity to slip away. Nothing on either count so far, but they were just starting out, "though they do roam the Free Marches."

"Right, uh, sorry."

Thenris shook her head, "You're fine da'len. You're from Fereldon right?"

"That's right! I am from Denerim originally. Got taken to the circle just before the blight started. It was… bad. But it's over now. How do you like Fereldon?"

"I thought there would be more werewolves," she said absently as she scanned the tree line, then she turned back to him. "Actually, do you mind keeping a bit more quite? I'd rather not have anyone hear us."

"Oh right. Of course," he said, his voice dropping. 

They moved on in silence for a bit, Thenris turning them off their intended route.

"I think you've gone the wrong way," Jerron said frowning, "The Kings road is this way-"

"No, we are going the right way, here just a bit further," Thenris replied.

"No, it's this way," Jerrin said and turned. 

In the distance, Thenris heard a sound that might have been metal clinking. "Wait," her voice went low.

"No, this is the way we should be going. Come one," Jerrin said clearly, not bothering ro keep his voice down.

Thenris had gotten low, "Shhhhh, I think I hear something."

"What-?" Jerrin was cut off in part by a whizzing sound, part by a thunk, but mostly he was cut off by the arrow in his shoulder.

"Shit," Thenris hissed and threw up her barrier. Jerrin let out a shout, in the distance they could hear the enemy fast moving in on them. By the sound of clanking armor, and a glimpse of red she saw, her guts told her two things: There were Templars, at least four or them, probably more. _Always bet on more._

“Move,” She ordered, running low and quick towards cover, Jerrin scrambling after her. 

She slipped behind a rock, hearing the whiz of another arrow, and a small thud as it hit the ground near where she had been. It came from off to the left of where the other came from, the way they would want to run to get back to camp.

Jerrin was slower to get to cover, and it cost him he fell next to her arrow in his back.

She had to run, but would get shot down like a dog if she did she needed-

Her eyes fell to Jerrin, laying on the ground gasping for breath, arrow in his chest and shoulder. He was going to die. 

"Come on!" She heard the shout and the crunch of templars moving in closer.

It was her or them. She needed a distraction. _Sorry, Jerrin._

A shout went up from the templars as the Rage Demon rose, but Thenris didn't stay to watch her handy work. She bolted. Trying to stay low at first, she thought she heard an arrow miss her as went, then after a moment, she went into full sprint North West. 

It wasn't until she felt more or less in the clear and paused to crouch behind a rock near the Redcliff road that she noticed she had dropped her staff and left her knife buried in poor Jerrin. 

_Shit, shit- No, no, it's fine. I've made it this far. Just keep going._

* * *

In his book "All this shit is weird," esteemed author Verric Tethras described Islanil Zathren Lavellen as follows: _A hardass son of a bitch. With an unrelenting drive pushing his steps forward. The seasoned Dalish hunter rarely smiled. He surveyed the world through a hunter's gaze, cold grey eyes always on the lookout for problems to shoot._

"I do not think that demon came through a rift," Solas observed after the Rage Demon fell, "The apostates must have summoned it to fight the Templars."

"Shit," Verric muttered, "Nothing like desperation and fear to bring out the blood mages."

"We should be careful, there may be more of them," Cassandra said, "Blood magic is as powerful as it is dangerous."

"Idiots," Islanil muttered, looking over the charred Templar corpses, he grabbed their coin purses out of habit. He pauses found the charred corpse of a young mage with a bloody knife in his throat. Some poor soul made into fuel by his fellows. _What cold-hearted shem does this to their own?_

"We should swing back, get a report to Cullen the Apostates are getting desperate. I wouldn't want our men caught unaware," he added rising.

"To say nothing of what these mages might do with the refugees," Verric said.

The Seeker nodded, "You are right. Best to get a warning out, and get more of our own Templars out here. We cannot have these men preying on the innocent for power."

"Active summoning does nothing to strengthen the veil. They must be stopped or we risk more rifts in this area," Solas said. The mage had wandered off slightly, inspecting the ground. He came back into the conversation carrying a dalish mage staff that he was inspecting. 

"Let's go-" Island stopped as his gaze moved over Solas, "Wait. Where did you find that?"

Not waiting for a response he moved forward and took it, eye’s widening, and color draining from his face, as he ran his hands over what was clearly a familiar object.

“It was on the ground there,” Solas said, gesturing towards the spot. 

“My grandmother made this staff…” Islanil said his voice low and transfixed, “She gave it to my wife when she first came from Clan Enasalasa…” His head snapped up and he moved to where Solas had pointed searching the ground. His voice became at once firm and clear, “This was my daughter’s staff, she kept it with her at all times, if it made it here… Seeker, I must ask that we form search parties. Solas, Verric, if you could head back to camp and get corporal Vale’s and his men-”

“Of course,” Cassandra said, “If your daughter is here we will find her.”

“Already on it,” Verric said, “Come on, Chuckles.”


	2. Found and Family

_She looked like a bloody, muddy, mess when we found her, breathing heavy, her black hair matted and filthy, eye wide like she was ready to bolt or lash out at any second. She looked pretty and proud later, but the first time we saw her she looked more like a wild animal than a woman._

\- Taken from an account given by Corporal Vale, on finding Lady Thenris Lavellen, the Herolds daughter. 

* * *

"Halt in the name of the Inquisition! Lay down your arms and you will not be hurt!"

"Dread Wolf Ass I will!" Thenris shouted back. Popping up to throw more mage fire down at the human downhill from her position in the rocks.

"Ma'am, we do not want to hurt you. In the name of the Herald of Andraste-"

"Tell the Herald of Andraste to: _Go suck the Dread Wolf's gangrenous dick!"_ Thenris shouted back, cutting the man off and falling into elvish for the last bit. _How dumb do they think I am?_

The reply came back in perfect elven: “ _I shall tell him that child, but I am not sure your father would appreciate the sentiment.”_

There was a silence.

“What?” Thenris peeked her head out just enough to see the tree line below her position. A bald man with staff had stepped partway out of cover.

“ _I come on behalf of your Father, who is on his way, assuming you are indeed Thenris Vallen Lavellen, daughter of Islanil Lavellen,”_ He called back.

She felt her heart rate jump up, “ _I am Thenris Lavellen. What do you know of my father?”_

“ _He is with the Inquisition. The Herald of Andraste.”_

Thenris suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “Bullshit. _My father died at the conclave.”_

_“He did not, and he is on his way here.”_

_“You expect me to believe that?”_ She shouted back, wishing her voice was steady.

_“What you believe is not my concern. But he is indeed alive and will be here shortly. He spoke very highly of you. You are second to Keeper Deshanna, you have a sister named Hawlen, a niece Revanna, your mother's name is Vallen.”_

There was another pause, in which Thenris took a long breath. “You promise you will not fire?”

“Only if you do not fire at us,” he replied.

Slowly Thenris rose up from cover, summoning a barrier around herself, and moved forward towards these strangers. As she did the bald elf stepped fully out of the tree line.

“It is alright,” he said, “They will not hurt you, Lethalin. We only want you safe.”

“Who are you?” She asked, feeling terrifyingly exposed, as she moved forward towards this strange elf. Something in her said this still must be a trick, despite the evidence given.

“I am Solas, and I am here to help,” He said as she drew within arm's length, “I imagine you have had a rather trying time of it.”

“That would be putting it mildly,” She replied. She did not lower her barrier, her eyes darting from this Solas to the humans now stepping out of the trees. The humans did not appear hostile, their weapons down. As to Solas, this stranger who spoke elven so well, he seemed perfectly at ease. He also had a gentle face, she decided, though she wished she could place his accent.

“It will be alright. As I said your father is on his way. We found your staff in the Witchwood, and formed search parties to find you,” Solas explained.

Thenris gave a nod, and with a breath to steel her nerves lowered her barrier. 

There was a sound in the undergrowth behind them, and they turned to see another party hurrying towards them, there were three of them, a human woman, and a dwarf bringing up the rear, but Thenris eye’s locked to the figure in the lead, for sure as day, there he was.

There was a moment when both of them paused, father and daughter caught frozen as their eyes met, perhaps unbelieving of what they saw, perhaps unable to move as an incomprehensible wave of relief washed through them.

“Papa,” She breathed.

Sometime later, esteemed author Verric Tethras wrote the following: _There are moments words fail to describe feelings no man, elf, or dwarf has ever managed to capture in writing, this was such a one. Father and daughter, each thought lost beyond hope, miraculously found. For that blessed moment caught up in an embrace of love and relief. Clutching each other tightly as tears of joy streamed down their cheeks._

_Of all the strange events that had happened to him, his survival at the temple, the breach in the sky, the mark on his hand, I think Lavellen considered finding his daughter alive and unharmed through the chaos the most miraculous of all._

* * *

"Well Cassandra, Verric, Solas, I first want to thank you," Islanil said after the crying and hugging had subsided and the group made their way back to the crossroads. Father and daughter walking together in the middle of the pack and letting the Seeker take the lead. "I believe I owe you a great debt," he continued.

"Ah, don't mention it. Saving people and reuniting families has become a pastime of mine these last few years,” Verric said.

“Secondly,” Islanil said, his voice becoming lighter, “I am overjoyed for you all to meet my daughter,” He smirked and threw an arm around Thenris shoulders. “Tied with her sister for second most beautiful girl in all the Free Marches, -their mother is obviously first-.”

“Papa-!” Thenris laughed as he continued.

“You should know my Thenris is an expert in all the lore and history of our people, ask her anything Solas, if you ever have any questions about our people she knows,-”

“-and _I_ want you to know there is nothing my Father loves more than embarrassing his children with unrealistic expectations.” Thenris cut in, with a glance back to Solas to shake her head and roll her eyes. 

“Ah yes, her legendary humility,” Islanil said, dancing back as his daughter attempted to shove him. “Truly she will be the greatest Keepers our clan has ever had,-”

“-After she murdered her Father,-”

“-She is a master in all the arts of our people, flawless in her skill as a craftsman,-”

“-Our Araval wheels would disagree-”

“-A true daughter of the Dales, the pure descendant of two ancient lines-”

“-Keeper Deshanna still says you were adopted, papa.”

“Well, your Aunt Deshanna is a liar, and you should never listen to a word she says,” Islanil said.

Thenris chuckled: “Oh no, and here I thought she had taught me the _whole of elven history_.”

“A terrible loss indeed,” Solas said, trying to hide a smile, “Whatever will you do now?”

“I was thinking nug farming,” She told him, “I understand it’s a fairly easy business to get into, with surprisingly good profit margins.”

Islanil laughed, “I tease, but Thenris will be a great Keeper Someday.”

“I thought you were second to the Keeper, isn’t it usually the First that succeeds them?” Solas asked.

“My wife Vallen is first to my older Sister Deshanna,” Islanil explained, “Thenris will succeed her when the time comes, we have every hope for her.”

“Doubtless after she has also proved herself the greatest mage of our era,” Solas commented.

Thenris shook her head but smiled all the same. 

“Eh, so long as she knows enough to stave off demons I’m happy, no need to get fancy,” Islanil said.

“If you don’t mind I am curious,” Thenris said, directing her comment to the Seeker, “I am still not sure I fully grasp what this Inquisition _is_ exactly. I know your Chantry denounced you, but they also say you are led by Chantry leaders..?”

This explanation carried them the rest of the way to camp, where Thenris got a decent meal and a chance to wash her face. Her father still had business here in the Hinterlands, trying to find a Grey Warden apparently, and after that was planning a trip to the coast, but said he would rest easier if she went to Haven.

“If you're sure we can trust these people, papa,” She told him in his tent.

“I understand your hesitation. But yes, I do trust them, and not just because they need me to close the sky. I believe they are honorable and will not turn on us. Now there is a group heading back to Haven in a day or two, so we will have some time together before you have to head back.”

Thenris sighed, “Just, be safe papa. Please.”

He embraced her, “I will be, the creators have watched over us this far, we trust to Ghilan’nain to guild us further.”

* * *

Haven was cold as she remembered, the crisp mountain air fresh and sharp in her lungs. She felt very exposed, coming into the camp where the human soldiers trained, she saw a few templars, but thankfully not many. She made sure she walked erect, with confidence and pride. She was Thenris Lavellen, Second to the Keeper, the pure descendant of Keepers of the Dales, she would not seem shaken.

She was welcomed by one Lady Josephine Montilyet, who knew exactly one phrase in elven, and apologized as: “We are in rather tight quarters at the moment, and must ask you make use of your father’s rooms for the time being. I hope that is not disagreeable to you, my lady.”

“No,” Thenris said, faltering only a little at this address, “No, that’s perfectly agreeable Lady Montilyet. I, uh, I thank you.”

She did not say that her family had slept in the same tent and bundled up together for most of her life, and the idea of not sharing a room was a bit foreign to her. Nor did she comment on the strange twinge that ran through her at being called “My Lady.”

Further examination of this feeling told her that some parts of her were very sure that whatever else she was, the title “My Lady” did not belong to an elf, and it was a trap to accept it.

She would get used to it though, she told herself, Haven was just another place, another town to experience before they moved on.

The second person she met in Haven was Researcher Mineave, whom she immediately felt more comfortable with, more equal, and with whom she had lunch. At lunch, she met apothecary Adan, who she liked even better. He was blunt and angry, but pointedly not racist, as no slurs came out in his unfiltered way of talking. In short, exactly the sort of human she liked dealing with best. No false respect, no pity, just a blunt desire to get his job done, Maker cared how.

“I have a fair amount of experience as an herbalist,” She told him, “I don’t suppose there is any way I can help?”

"Wouldn’t turn it down,” Adan said, “Maker knows we need all the help we can get. The way you Dalish live I imagine you know something about treating wounds with next to nothing. Here, you come by later and I can get you settled in. Assuming the higher up are alright with it.”

As it happened, the higher-ups were pleased, and just like that Thenris had a job to do, a place in this new place. She was determined to stay safe here, part of that was having a place in the higher achy, and doing a useful and needed job for these people. She counted her blessings and thanked the creators it seemed an actually noble cause so far. It would be much harder if it wasn't. 


End file.
